


All Tied Up and Nowhere to Go

by dagas isa (dagas_isa)



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Community: areyougame, D/s, F/F, Kinbaku (Japanese Rope Bondage)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagas_isa/pseuds/dagas%20isa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penelo's in the basement, tied up, and at the mercy of one Viera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Tied Up and Nowhere to Go

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Final Fantasy XII, Fran/Penelo: Bondage - Tremble for me at areyougame on DW.

No matter what, Penelo doesn't mind getting caught misbehaving. In fact, that's the whole point of the exercise: to end up in the basement of Fran and Balthier's Balfonhiem townhouse, naked and at the mercy of one imaginative Viera.

"Naughty, naughty," Fran's musical voice repeats in such a way that Penelo wants to nod her agreement. Long fingers work a length of rope the color of the deep sea around Penelo's body. The harness starts at her hips and makes a slow knotted column up the center of her stomach and into the valley of her cleavage. Fran pulls the rope taut always, and then winds each breast separately. The nails digging into Penelo's flesh are harsh—they'll leave as much of a mark as the ropes will—but otherwise, Fran handles them with care, the way she might inspect something she wishes to own.

No matter how well-trained and skilled they are at magic, Penelo's hands become useless once Fran secures them to the back of the harness. Not that Penelo cares to resist, oh no, not when Fran has more work to do, this time around Penelo's waist and thighs. The rope again goes around her waist, but the teal goes down this time, around her hips and thighs and, after some very clever knotwork on Fran's part, between Penelo's lower lips and through the front again before Fran ties the knot off with yards of rope and a slight bit of slack remaining.

"That should teach you." Fran comes in uncomfortably close—almost a predator cornering prey. Penelo steps back. The motion of the rope as she moves provokes a wobbly-leg sensation. Fran pursues again, and the pattern repeats until the hit of wood—the front of a simple chair—against the back of Penelo's calves stops her. Fran uses her body to push Penelo into the chair, warm thighs against her cool ones, while Fran secures Penelo's chest harness to the chair itself. That in place, Fran withdraws. Her fingers tease their way down Penelo's thighs, and two final lengths of rope secure Penelo's feet—and as a completely intended side effect—hold Penelo's legs spread open.

"Now you won't be getting into any trouble at all," Fran whispers. "You're just a little plaything." The final tie—the one that made no sense to Penelo when Fran left it slack and dangling, now becomes a brilliant set up. The knot that just barely pressed against her clit moves upwards as Fran pulls on the rope, sending a shock that starts from Penelo's core and radiates throughout her body.

"Ah!" Penelo lets out a gasp, as Fran continues to toy with her. Balthier might brag about Fran's way with the men, but her mastery over women is no less remarkable. If she weren't so securely fastened to the chair, Penelo might have melted into a puddle on the floor. Her head tilts back as Fran increases the place, and her brain scrambles to find words enough to beg for an orgasm.

The cellar door opens. "Fran, a minute please?" Of all the moments for Balthier to interrupt, this must be the worst. Penelo feels like she's on the edge of a climax, and Fran will leave her like this, no matter how much Penelo begs. She knows it, and yet Penelo's lips will form the words if there's even the smallest chance that Fran will finish what she started here.

"Please…please let me come." This, accompanied by pleading eyes, is the only tools in her employ right now, and Penelo realizes with a thud in her stomach that Fran won't, not yet. The rope Fran has been tugging goes limp. Fingernails graze Penelo's shoulders, stroking the twisted hemp that keeps her breasts held out for Fran's enjoyment.

"I cannot delay important business for the whims of a mere plaything. Hold on to this." The hand on Penelo's shoulder caresses upwards and pulls her jaw down, while the other sets the rope in her mouth. "We'll continue later. You would best be quiet while we have company."

Penelo can only whimper and pray that Fran and Balthier can be quick about their business, and as the time passes—slowly as only time a windowless room can pass—her reasons evolve. The immediate frenzy ebbs. She still feels aroused and swollen, and she throbs just anticipating what will happen when Fran returns, but the need to just throw her head back and let the sensations wash over her diminishes. Her jaw begins to ache, and the drool rolls down her chin with indignity. Penelo tries valiantly to ease the strain. Her jaw and neck move to find the least uncomfortable angle. The motion helps, though that special knot nudges up against her clit again and reignites the need for something more.

Fran's rope work leaves just enough slack for Penelo to stimulate herself, even if her head and neck are the only parts of her body that move freely right now. Perhaps if she can build up enough momentum...but she'll be punished if Fran discovers that Penelo climaxed without permission. With no idea when Fran will return though, Penelo thinks the risk worth it. Her teeth strain to hold the rope while her neck bends and drags the rope back and forth over her sweet spot. Yet no matter how much she tries, the orgasm eludes her. The rope slacks, but only enough to bring Penelo back to the desperate edge.

"Still holding the rope, I see." Fran's voice in her ear is the first sound that cuts through Penelo's haze. She realizes belatedly that she didn't even hear the basement door open, or the click of stilettos descending the stairway. Fran doesn't immediately relieve Penelo's mouth of the rope. Fran's warm hands are too busy playing with Penelo's bound breasts, her stomach, the inside of her thighs, and her rope-covered crotch.

Finally, Fran pays her a mercy and takes the rope from her mouth, and under some special school of magic that Fran must know, Penelo's right back to needing to come, as though the interruption had never occurred. It's too much. Every fiber of her body wants to let go. "Please…" Penelo whimpers as she strains to hold back until the final key falls in place.

"Tremble for me." Fran gives her permission and the precious strokes that send Penelo over that edge. She lets go of her self-control. The ropes and Fran keep her safe and steady while Penelo rides her climax out—vaguely she wonders if she's ever felt another one like it—all rush and abandonment and comes to the conclusion that it only matters if she can feel it again.

The orgasm resides, leaving Penelo soaked with sweat and her own juices, shallow of breath, and slightly dazed. Her hands and feet still twitch, and the rest of her would too if she weren't secured.

"Have you learned your lesson?" Fran kneels down and begins to undo the ties around Penelo's ankles.

To be honest, Penelo has forgotten the offense, though vaguely she thinks it must have involved trampling the garden accidentally, or perhaps being caught reading some love-letters from Fran's former lovers, but she has learned something. She needs this to not be the last time. "I have." She dares not be more specific than that.

Fran continues to unwind the rope, revealing a ridged pattern across Penelo's skin. "Or will we need more lessons?" Kisses follow the rope's retreat up Penelo's body.

Penelo's voice shakes. "Please teach me."

Fran only brushes a clump of Penelo's sweat-soaked hair behind her ear and smiles. "We shall see."

It's not just the underground coolness of the basement that makes Penelo shiver.


End file.
